#aethelrik

[wildwren]

absolutely not trying to detract from the aldflaed renaissance that is happening here, 100% support, i ship them too BUT what only the initiated understand is that aldflaed IS the narrative sequel to aethelrik, the problematic and deeply unhinged 'are we in love or are we just trauma bonding? lets fuck until one of us dies horribly' ship (which is widely misunderstood but that's a different post) one cannot exist without the other, they are two sides of the same coin, two nodes of the same story and most importantly, in combination they create thee most perfect geometrical ship form: the aldrikflaed. and i don't know how to tell you this but no one truly no one is more powerful than them

[narilwrites]

Yea sorry for being A guys 😂

if you’ve been on tumblr for a while then you are one of three types of people. you either A) have kept one main blog since the beginning that you shift to revolve around your current interests and hope your followers understand. B) you have a main blog for general stuff and then 17 specifically curated sideblogs each dedicated to a different hyperfixation you once had. or finally C) you create a new email and make a brand new main blog every time you change fandoms whilst quietly deleting your old one and acting like it never existed. personally i’m C what about you guys

[underragingwaves]

[aly-blackwoods]

another poem-inspired image series for @tlkafterparty

Poem is from Rainer Maria Rilke, with the last lines transposed because that’s how my silly brain memorized it.

This poem has gotten me through a lot; it made sense to put it with Aethelflaed’s arc from season 2.

[illbrkyourheart]

could the last kingdom ever hurt me more?

[narilwrites]

It’s true. I tried but I was like… nah, not interested anymore.

I am unashamed to admit I stopped watching after he died

[gudvina]

yes, i have a type

[wildwren]

Rules: Give us the links to your fic with the most hits, second most kudos, third most comments, fourth most bookmarks, fifth most words, and fic with the least words

I was tagged by @jeynepoole, thank you this is very fun!!

Most Hits: fate's lady - massive aethelrik saga part 2 (the last kingdom)

Second Most Kudos: like the earth - aronwyn first time!! neurodivergent elf sex!!! (the rings of power)

Third Most Comments: hostage of fate - massive aethelrik saga part 1 (the last kingdom)

Fourth Most Bookmarks: too close to focus - post-canon bonrad nonsense / connie character study (tsitp)

Fifth Most Words: can't get you out of my head - ALDRIKFLAED SUPREMACY!!!!! college au. (the last kingom)

Fewest Words: most CURSED among god's kin are aethelings - aethelwold my beloved!!!!! (the last kingdom)

low pressure tag @volvaaslaug @mollywog @folatefangirl, double tagging @captaincrais in a decidedly high pressure way (jkjk)

[solinarimoon]

A Thaw in Winter

A Thaw in Winter

My Entry for @emilyhufflepufftlk 200 follower challenge.  It’s a bit late, but Covid got me and I unfortunately cannot always hold to deadlines anyway.  But congratulations lovely Em!  Your writing is superb!  I hope you enjoy this little emotional, angsty one-shot.  Who doesn’t love some Aethelrik!

My prompt was a quote from Heathers, the Musical by Kevin Murphey and Laurence O’Keefe.  The quote will be in bold.  Or read on AO3 if you prefer. The gif is not mine, it is originally posted by @abraxos-is-toothless​

My masterlist

Aethelflaed released a long, slow breath, feeling the heavy weight of the future settle deep in her chest.  The cool breeze from off the harbor slipped gently in through her cell’s window.  The room was no more than a garrison off of a stable, used mainly for the storing of grain and hay.  

But since being brought as a prisoner and bargaining chip to Beamfleot, this room had become her prison.  Her thoughts drifted along with the breeze.  How had her path led her to escape one life of captivity only to be forced into another.  And in that new prison, how had her heart found its home?

“What keeps your thoughts so far away, my lady?”

Aethelflaed blinked, allowing his words to break through her reverie.  

Erik slid his large hands around her waist to rest atop her stomach and pressed a kiss to her dark hair.  Turning to meet his gaze, she couldn’t stop the corners of her lips slipping into a sad, gentle smile.  Tenderly, she cupped his face and leaned her forehead to rest against his shoulder.  She sighed, answering his words.

“I was thinking that God is cruel.”  

Aethelflaed breathed in with the rise and fall of his chest.  

“Cruel?” He questioned.  “What do you mean by this?”

Aethelflaed tilted her head back to meet his eye, “Do your Gods not set your paths before you?  Do you not believe in fate?”  

She searched his eyes, finding only curiosity and ardor.  After a few heartbeats, she felt the hum in his chest as he nodded in the truth of her pondering. 

Assuming that was all the reply she would receive, and not sure if she desired more than that, Aethelflead turned her body once more, her back resting against his large chest.  She let her gaze wander to rest once more on the scene outside her window. The harbor with its hundreds of floating vessels ready to invade, plunder, and ravage her people’s way of life. 

At least that is how she was brought up to believe. In earnest, what she still believed of many of the Danish men she had the misfortune to meet. But Erik had flipped all of her suppositions on their head. 

Leaning her back further in to rest against his chest, she was surprised when she heard his deep voice speak. 

Erik sighed, “Yes, this is true. Many Danes believe that the Gods set our fates.  That our paths are weaved as a thread by the Norns into the tapestry of the tree of Yggdrasil.  Creating its roots and thus forming the world.”

Aethelflaed closed her eyes, allowing herself to drift along with his words. Content to hear the lore of his people and let the timber of his voice quell her fears. If only for a moment in time. She breathed in deeply. The heady musk of him allowing her to further sink into his calm. 

“I know it is something my brother believes.  For him, The Allfather has grand fates for the sons of Thurgil.  We are to be renowned warlords. Men should fear us and follow us.”

He paused for a moment as if debating his next words.  Quietly, slowly, unsure if he wanted to hear her reply, Erik spoke once more, “Do you think your God bringing your path to meet mine was an act of malice?”

Aethelflaed sat up, spinning to face him, hurt plain on her face that he would think this was her meaning.

“No,” she protested quickly, her hand once more reaching to take his face gently, “that is not what I meant.  At least,” she paused, gathering her thoughts, “not in the manner you may be thinking.”

She paused, waiting for him to bring his eyes up. To meet her own.  It took only a heartbeat before he did so, searching her face.  

Without meaning to, she felt the corners of her mouth ghost up into another sad smile.  Slowly, she brought her other palm up to rest along his cheek, keeping his face between her hands.

“Before meeting you, Erik,” she started only to pause and swallow down a tear, “before you, I was alone.  I was a frozen lake.  But then you melted me awake.  I was lifeless and cold. A captive in my own life. I lived moving from room to room without being present in any of them.  Aethelred held me like that frozen lake. A thing to be witnessed, maybe marveled at for its proximity to power, but not to be alive. To be free and flowing. 

But you,” she enunciated her words, calm and sure, “you, my sweet Erik, have brought a thaw in the midst of winter. You have turned that frozen girl back into the movement of life.”

She felt the lump in her throat grow seeing the way his eyes lit with love at the sound of her words.  Overcome with emotion, she folded herself into him, wrapping her arms around his muscled torso and resting her forehead against his chest.  She took a stuttering breath, but when she continued her words were clear.  She did not falter.

“Meeting you, loving you has been the single greatest joy of my heart. But knowing that fate, that the will of your Gods or mine, brings us here, together, only to face our own people, our families fighting and killing one another. That is a cruel fate. Worse than death,” she sobbed as her words were muffled by Erik’s lips pressing kisses along her mouth, her jaw, her temple, her face. 

These were not the kisses of passion and desire they had shared before. These kisses held a power. A depth of love and devotion and a promise. 

Pulling himself back, Erik held Aethelflaed’s face gently between his palms, mirroring her comforting gesture from moments before.  Softly, he trailed his thumbs in gentle circles, soothing and calm.

“I know, my love.  An uncertain future can be a daunting one.  But I will not allow my path to stray from yours.  I swear it.  I will not be severed from you.  Not by your weasel of a husband.  And not by my brother.”

“How?  How can we do this, Erik?  You would forsake your brother, your people? I wish to be rid of my husband’s torment and cruelty.  But to abandon my father and his dream for a united land…” Aetheflaed felt herself shrink inwards, pulling away from his warmth, only to feel the pull of his voice bring her back.

“We could be that dream, Aethelflaed.  You and me.  The heathen and the princess,” he chuckled mirthlessly, but continued on, “we could bring the people together.”

Aethelflaed scoffed, not unkindly, “it will not work, Erik.  The people are not ready.  Yours or mine.  The love of two people is not enough to still the generations of fear and hate and conquest.”

Erik wrapped his arms closer around her and pressed his forehead to hers.  For several moments, she settled her fears in his embrace.  The frustration and despair once more dissipating while he breathed him in.  If they were destined for their love to be torn apart, she wanted the memories of him to last her lifetime.  His scent, musky and dark with an air of honey.  His embrace, full of power holding her down to earth.  An anchor against a raging sea.  

“Then we will leave.  We will leave here and let these big men fight their battles.”

For the second time that night, his words caught her off guard.  “I will take you away and we will live on a little farm and have a simple life.” 

“I can not ask this of you.”

“You did not ask,” his response clipped her argument. “I have followed my brother here.  I have witnessed his obsession with gaining glory and position amongst our people grow while I linger beside him.  It does not stir the same passion in me.  I do not feel that my fate is pulled to be that warlord my brother envisions we will become.  You say that you were a frozen lake before finding me.  If that is true then I was a wave floating along in my brother's current.  Flowing along as he flowed.  But now I have found my own current.  Our flowing river has diverged into two and my wave has broken from its former course.  Found its own path. To you, Aethelflaed.”

Throughout his confession, tears welled in Erik’s eyes, threatening to fall.  He lifted his head to see Aethelflaed smile through tear soaked cheeks.

“Is this truly what you desire, Erik?”  Aethelflaed’s voice was strained as she fought against the emotions pouring from her heart. “You wish to leave all behind, for a simple life with me?”

“Yes, my love.  Though,” he paused, sniffing and trying to fight back his own tears, “in truth I don’t know how to spirit you away from here.  Not yet.  And you have not told me if you’re willing to come.  You did not ask me to make this choice.  And I will show you the same respect.  I would not ask you to forsake your father and your people, if it was not,” but his words were left unsaid.

Aethelflaed pulled his face to hers and kissed his lips pouring out the overwhelming love and anguish she could no longer contain.  The love she felt consumed her in that moment, pulling at her heart and tightening a coil in her stomach.

“You do not need to ask me, either.  I will leave with you.  I want a life away from here.  With you,”  she confessed her choice in a flurry of words, the world feeling as if it were spinning in reverse.  Erik rested his forehead against hers once more, gently wiping away her tears and peppering her face with kisses.

“I do not know how we will do this, my love.  But I will find a way.  We will find a way,” he promised, his voice thick with conviction and emotion.

They stood together, locked in embrace, silent tears continuing to fall.  Aethelflaed felt her breathing slow and the pain and overwhelming fear for their situation slowly release from her stomach.  Her shoulders relaxed and she breathed in, her head clearing from the rush of emotions.  And then it came to her.  The solution.

“Uhtred,” she breathed.  Tilting her head back to meet Erik’s questioning look, she continued, “Uhtred is our answer.  My father will send him to negotiate.  I know him.  He will help us.”

Aethelflaed waited as Erik stared at her face, saw her belief.  Her sincerity.  She watched as his face broke into a smile and he nodded, before he brought another kiss to her lips.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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Tags: @maggiescarborough @pokeasleepingsmaug @nxrdist @mystic-shadows42 @emilyhufflepufftlk @magravenwrites @lauwrite1225 @morosemagick @thebohemianpenguin @mrsalwayswrite @notyourwildestdream @ecarroll1978 @93xdiagonxalley @nobodys-business-world @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @trenko-heart @0hsappho @xlittlestarling

[princess-from-another-galaxy]

https://uquiz.com/zds4Hf

[aadmelioraa]

a family resemblance

[gonewiththequiz]

https://uquiz.com/GsOjgQ

We can’t all be Uhtred ⚔️

[gonewiththehannah]

When he’s a pagan invader who is raiding the coastline, but you can’t resist a man with a self care routine!😍

🔥🧔🏼🔥

[mirdaniaa]

how love should be 

A continuation of Erik and Aethelflaed's first kiss.

Rated M

written for @tlkfanficfest bingo

read it on ao3 if you wish

“Lord, love should be gentle and kind.”

That’s what she tried to tell her husband, the last day they were at home together. After enduring his rough touch night after night, his cruel jibes over the meals they took together, she had finally pleaded with him.

“Gentle and kind, she says,” he’d taunted. “How is it that you have a knowledge of how love should be?”

She hadn’t had a good answer then, but she has a better one now.

Love should be gentle and kind because gentleness and kindness are love. Afternoons spent learning at her father’s side, nights when her mother put her to bed with soft words, holding her little brother when he cried; all of those were acts of gentleness and kindness, and all of that gentleness and kindness was borne out of love. It was love that made her want to learn all that her father had to teach her, love that made her sleep easier from her mother’s presence, love that dried Edward’s tears and brought a smile back to his face.

“This is not love,” she’d told her husband when he’d put his hands on her. “That is the truth of it.”

“He is not gentle, I would guess,” Erik says now, and she looks at him, because…

He understands.

Of course he would understand. Though he is a Dane and a warrior, there is something about Erik that makes her feel…

Seen.

My husband does not see me.

“He is the one who mistreats you,” he continues, his brow furrowed.

“He is not the man I would choose to be with,” she says softly.

He is not you, goes unspoken.

Unspoken, but not unheard.

Erik takes her chin in his hand—gently, oh so gently—and slowly moves his face towards hers.

She could pull away, if she wanted to. Erik would not take offense. She could pull away and he would apologize and they would never speak of it again.

But she doesn’t want to pull away.

She closes her eyes, letting him kiss her.

It’s a gentle kiss, but not like the soft, tepid kisses Aethelred had given her before that horrible wedding night. There is heat in this kiss, and passion, but caution, too, as though he fears this kiss is too much for her.

He pulls back, his gaze questioning, but Aethelflaed pulls him forward, her mind made up.

Erik is gentle and kind.

Erik is a man whom she could love.

And perhaps…she already does.

His hands, big and calloused, yet tender all the same, move slowly down her body, landing on her shoulders, her arms, now spanning the length of her back. He holds her as though she is some precious thing, as though he does not want her to break. How different from Aethelred’s sharp fingers digging into her hips, pulling her against him while he thrust into her like a beast in rut.

She wonders…

Nervous but no less determined, she reaches down, undoing the clasp at her chest. Her mantle comes loose and she shrugs out of it, reaching for the laces of her kirtle.

“Lady,” Erik murmurs, his eyes searching hers.

“Aethelflaed.” She pulls her kirtle over her head. “Call me Aethelflaed.”

“Aethelflaed.” He brings his hands to her face again, his thumbs stroking her cheeks. “Are you certain this is what you want?”

“Yes,” she says without hesitation. “I have only known my husband, and he…I want…to know the touch of a man who is gentle and kind.”

Erik’s eyes are full of emotion. “And you think I am…gentle and kind?”

“One of the gentlest and kindest men I have ever met,” she tells him honestly.

He smiles, kissing her. Together, they remove his clothes and hers, until they are both naked in each other’s arms. Then, his arms still around her, he lowers her to the ground.

The stalks of grass bend beneath her, their leaves cool and smooth against her bare skin. Erik, on the other hand, is warm and hard against her, the muscles of his chest and arms rippling as he settles onto his elbow.

“You are so beautiful, Aethelflaed,” he murmurs, one hand smoothing the hair from her face.

She kisses him again, gasping when she feels his his fingers slip between their bodies. His kisses move up and down her neck while he touches her, drawing a sensation from her she has never felt before. Her hands slide up the plane of his back, feeling the ridges of his muscles and the notches of old scars as he draws this strange pleasure from her.

He pulls his hand away just as she feels she might burst, but before she can protest, he settles his body between her legs, drawing back with an unspoken question in his eyes.

She nods. Yes.

He never takes his eyes from her as he moves inside her.

Aethelflaed lets out a small, “Oh.”

She had braced herself for discomfort, even for pain, but she had not been prepared for how good he feels. There is something comforting about the way he fills her, as though her body was molded especially for his.

But after a moment, she wants more, and rocks her hips to take more of him inside her.

Erik rolls his hips against hers, thrusting with a slow, easy rhythm. Dimly, it reminds Aethelflaed of water lapping against a shore, rising higher and higher until--

A wave crashes over her, her fingers digging into his back, a strangled cry falling from her lips.

Erik covers her face in kisses, murmuring comforting words she can hardly hear over the thunder of her own heart. Only one word stands out above the rest:

Love.

She smiles against his kisses. Yes, this is love. That is the truth of it.

[metall-and-dust]

its missing erik thurgilson hours guys

[incorrect-last-kingdom-quotes]

Siegfried: HOW ON EARTH DO YOU LOSE A WOMAN?! Erik: You forget to cherish her.